


courts the lightning flash

by metonymy



Category: Lawless (2012)
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle, unrepentant smuttery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metonymy/pseuds/metonymy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forrest is unshakeable. But around Maggie, all of that changes. Originally posted at Porn Battle XIV for the prompts "tender" and "still".</p>
            </blockquote>





	courts the lightning flash

Forrest is unshakeable. He's rough-edged and solid and sure of himself, and that's why Maggie went after him in the first place. Someone who wasn't confused or blown around like thistledown. Someone steady. He certainly doesn't look like he could be moved by anything or anyone as he strips down and reveals the thick muscles of his back, his neck, those legs that seem almost ready to plant themselves in the earth beneath the floorboards.

And yet around her, when they're alone, all of that changes. Those broad hands with their blunt fingers that can do things she hates to think about - they tremble when they touch her, tiny little shivers as they fumble along the buttons of her blouse and the tiny clasps of her lingerie. It's not teasing but it sure feels that way, even if she's sure he's more afraid he's going to tear something. Or frighten her off, maybe. As if anything could scare her off by now. She catches his hands in hers and holds them still, then settles his palms on her hips while she shimmies out of her clothes and lets her mouth trail down his neck. There are so many scars under her lips, under her fingertips, the ragged-edged holes and sliced lines raised and tender and making him shiver all over again. His voice, normally so gruff and quiet, ebbs into a whispered prayer as Maggie kisses her way down his chest and takes his cock in her hand, just loosely circling her fingers round the hardening length.

That tree-trunk of a man is content to let himself be pushed onto the bed - the real bed she made him get, the only visible change since they got hitched - and Forrest looks up at Maggie like she's some kind of goddess, not just a redheaded girl with skinny calves and a big mouth. He cups her jaw with one hand and pulls her down for a kiss, mumbling words she can't make out, sneaking his way between her legs to her cunt with his other hand. And here, even with his big calloused fingers, he's still gentle and careful and uses her _there, right there_ and _more, inside_ to guide his every move. He waits till she pulls away and helps guide his cock inside her, sitting up a little to kiss her breasts and throat as she starts to move over him.

It's like the moonshine moving through her body when they're fucking like this, the pleasant burn right through her belly and the warm glow spreading all through her till her toes are tingling, and Forrest's breathing harsh in the quiet of the room as she urges him on, and she cries out and slaps her hands on his chest to hold herself up. His right hand digs into her hip as he comes, to keep her steady or to keep himself together.

Later, he strokes gently over her hip, where the red marks are fading.

"Sorry," he says. She only has to admonish him with a kiss; when you go chasing lightning, it's remarkable if even the tenderest souls don't get a little excitable.


End file.
